"No." Just the one word, forced out through his lips.

"Japhrimel-" Please, I was going to say. I was going to plead, to beg if that was what it came to. Stopped myself just in time.

Begging was weakness.

But she was part Doreen's, and part mine. It was worth any weakness if I could make him understand, if I could convince him to help me.

He spoke before I could muster the words. "You are asking me to endanger your life by throwing our lot in with a rebellion that cannot possibly succeed. No, Dante. I will not risk you."

"Lucifer wants to kill me anyway." It came out flat and hopeless. What chance did I have if the Devil wanted me dead?

"I can keep him from you." His hand bit into my shoulder. "Have I not kept him from you so far?"

Oh, Japh. Please. Help me out here. "She only asked, Japh. She didn't demand, she didn't manipulate, she didn't force me. She just asked."

That seemed to make him even angrier. "She's demon. We lie, my curious one, in case you have not noticed."

Oh, I've noticed. Believe me, I've learned to count on it. "What about you?" He leaned in close, his nose an inch from mine, his eyes filling mine with green light just like the wristcuff's warnings. "Judge me by what I do. Have I not always kept faith with you?"

I opened my mouth to retort, but he had a point. All I had to do was breathe to understand the answer to that particular question.

"The Master Nichtvren didn't say it was Lucifer, he just said it was a demon with a green gem. You did lie."

No response. My heart pounded. You gave up Hell for me, and you just lied to the Prince of Hell for me. "You lied to protect me from the Devil. And you pushed him back. You stopped him."

He shrugged, his coat moving with a whispering sound. Said nothing.

I reached up with my right hand, touched his face. He sighed, closing his eyes. Leaned into my fingers.

If he hadn't been so close, I might have missed the single tear that slipped out beneath his eyelashes and tracked down his cheek in the semi-darkness.

Oh, Japhrimel. My heart broke. I could actually feel it cracking apart inside my chest.

"What am I going to do with you?" I managed around the lump in my throat. "You tried to force me to do what you wanted. You hurt me."

His face contorted, I smoothed his mouth down with my fingers. "I am sorry," he breathed. He leaned into me, his lips brushing my skin so that he kissed my hand with each word. "I should not have, I know I should not have. I was afraid. Afraid of harm coming to you."

Oh, gods. I traced the arch of his cheekbone, the shape of his bottom lip. Felt the tension go out of him as I leaned forward, pressed my lips to his smooth golden cheek. "You idiot," I whispered, my lips moving against his skin. "I love you. Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

He flinched as if I'd hit him. "I am sorry," he whispered. "Do not doubt me."

He'd actually apologized. Miracles were coming thick and fast now.

I couldn't say anything through the lump of stone in my throat, but I nodded. I swallowed a few times.

When his eyes opened again, I almost gasped, their green was so intense. He studied me up-close, then pressed a gentle kiss onto my cheek. He made sure I was steady, sitting up, then straightened, backed up two steps and clasped his hands behind his back.

"You're hungry. We land in half an hour."

Understanding flashed between us. His eyes said, Forgive me. Teach me how to do this. You are the only one who can.

My heart leapt. Just trust me, and don't doubt me either. That's all I need from you.

There was more, but I couldn't have put it into words. The softening in his mouth told me he understood. For that one split second, at least, we were in total accord. My heart twisted inside my chest and my cheeks flamed with heat. Whatever Fallen meant, Japhrimel loved me. Hadn't he proved it enough?

The rest could wait.

I nodded. Held up my sword. "Thank you. For the scabbard." My voice was back to rough honey, granular gold. Soothing.

That wasn't all I was thanking him for, and he knew it.

His slight smile rewarded me. Then he reached up, opening a small metal stasis cabinet. He lifted down something small but apparently heavy and took a single step forward, handing it to me. I had to lay my sword down to accept it. "A small gift, for my beloved."

He vanished through the opening in the partition as I brought my hands down and found them full of a familiar weight. The statue was obsidian, glowing mellowly through a scrim of heat-scarring from the fire that had destroyed our house. The woman sat, calmly, Her lion's head set firmly atop Her body, the sun-disc of hammered gold still shining. I could see traceries of Power, careful repair work, where Japhrimel had spent his demon-given Power to repair the weakening of molecular bonds the reaction fire had caused. It would have taken unimaginable Power and precision to repair the glassy obsidian, phenomenal strength and inhuman concentration.

All for me. A gift, the only gift he knew how to give. His strength.

Tears spilled hot down my cheeks.

I'd misjudged him, after all. Just as badly as he'd misjudged me.

41.

Lucas slumped in a chair, blood stiffening on his torn shirt. Sunlight poured in the hover windows, I pushed my hair back behind my ear and examined him.

He looked like hell, gaunt and sticky with dry blood everywhere except for a swipe on his cheek where he'd probably rubbed the dirt-dusted gummy crust off. He still held one 60-watt plasgun, tilted up with the smooth black plasteel barrel resting against his cheek. His legs stretched out, clad in shredded jeans. At least his boots had survived. His yellow eyes, half-lidded, were distant and full of some emotion I didn't want to examine too closely.

Something like banked rage, and satisfaction.

I lowered myself down in the chair opposite him. This hover was good-sized but narrow, with round porthole windows like a military transport. I didn't know where Lucas had gotten it, but it was taking us away from DMZ Sarajevo, and that was all I cared about.

McKinley and Japhrimel held a low conference up front in the pilot booth-this hover was old enough to have an actual booth instead of a cockpit-and Vann leaned against the booth's entrance, his arms folded. He scowled at Lucas. There were horrible livid bruises on his brown face, and one eye was bandaged.

I didn't want to know.

There was no smell of human in the hover. The agents smelled like dried cinnamon, with the faintest tang of demon, Lucas smelled like a stasis cabinet and blood dried to flakes, and Japhrimel and I . . . well, we smelled like demon. Of course.

I leaned back in the chair, my katana across my knees.

I have a blade that bit the Devil. Gods grant me strength enough to use it next time. I'm sure there's going to be a next time.

"Who are you really working for, Lucas?" My voice was quiet, stroking the air, calming.

He shrugged, his eyelids dropping another millimeter. "You," he said, in his painful whisper. "Since New Prague. I was contracted by Ol' Blue Eyes to meet you, look after you. Figured the two jobs tallied."

I nodded, my head moving against the chair's headrest. Thought about it. Decided. It was only fair, after all.

"If you want to go on your way, I won't blame you. You stood up to the Devil for me." Gave him a bit of trouble, too. We might almost have had a chance.Not really. Not without Japhrimel.

He gave another one of those terrible, dry, husking laughs. He certainly seemed to find me amusing nowadays.

"Shitfire," he finally wheezed. "This's the most interesting thing I seen in years. Ain't gonna stop now. Four demons, eyes an' ears.

Until the fourth demon's dead, chica, I'm your man."

I nodded. Braced myself. It was always best to pay debts before the interest mounted, and I owed him. If not for him, Lucifer would have killed me before Japhrimel could reach me. "I told you the pay's negotiable. What do you want?"

"Your demon boyfriend paid me, Valentine. Consider yourself lucky."

Well, it was certainly a day for surprises. I shifted uneasily in the seat, then rested my head against the seat's high back.

"Do you think she was telling the truth?" I meant Eve. He'd been in the room, after all.

"Don't know. I ain't no Magi." He shifted a little in the chair, as if he hurt. "Explains a helluva lot."

"Are you all right?" It was a stupid question. We'd both gotten off lightly, for tangling with Lucifer.

"Devil damn near pulled my spleen out through my nose. It hurt." Lucas sighed. He sounded disappointed. "Guess even he can't kill me."

"Give him time." I didn't mean for it to sound flippant. Then I leaned forward, running my hand back through my hair. "Lucas, do you have any friends? I mean, real friends?"

An evocative shrug. His yellow eyes fastened on me.

"If you had a friend," I persisted, "and he lied to you but it was for a good reason, what would you do?"

Silence. Lucas studied me.

The hover began a stomach-jolting descent then rose again, probably to avoid a traffic stream. I folded my left arm across my belly; it wasn't tender, but I was still cautious.

Finally, Lucas hauled himself upright, leaned forward. Rested his elbows on his knees. "You askin' me for advice, chica.

Dangerous." He rasped in a breath. "I seen a lot of shit on the face of the earth. Most of it pointless. The only thing I can tell you is-take what you can get."

I weighed the statement, wondering if it was any good. Take what you can get. Was that even honorable? "So you don't have any friends?"

He shrugged again.

I closed my eyes, leaning back into the chair's embrace. "You do now, Lucas." I paused, let the fact sink in. "You do now."

After all, he'd shot the Devil. For me. Who cared if it was just a job to him?

Take what you can get.

Eve wanted her freedom. Lucifer wanted her dead or captured-most likely captured, since he had used me as bait to draw her out. Lucifer also wanted me kept so busy with "hunting" down his escaped children that I didn't have time to find out it was Eve he was really after. Japhrimel probably wanted to keep us both alive long enough to figure out which was the winning side, and I didn't blame him. Lucas was curious, and he might have thought Lucifer could finally kill him.Take what you can get.

What did I want out of this? I didn't even know yet.

We were going to land in Giza, meet Leander, and figure out what course to follow next. I had to decide if I was going to hunt down Doreen's daughter for Lucifer, or if I was going to risk my life-and Japhrimel's too-taking on the Prince of Hell.

Who was I fooling? I already knew what I was going to do.

The trouble would be talking both myself and Japhrimel into it.

Glossary A'nankhimel: (demon term) 1. A Fallen demon. 2. A demon who has tied himself to a human mate. Note: As with all demon words, there are several layers of meaning to this term, depending on context and pronunciation. The meanings, from most common to least, are as follows: descent from a great height, chained, shield, a guttering flame, a fallen statue.

Androgyne: 1. A transsexual, cross-dressing, or androgynous human. 2. (demon term) A Greater Flight demon capable of reproduction.

Animone: An accredited psion with the ability to telepathically connect with and heal animals, generally employed as veterinarians.

Anubis et'her ka: Egyptianica term, sometimes used as an expletive; loosely translated, "Anubis protect me/us."

Awakening, the: The exponential increase in psionic and sorcerous ability, academically defined as from just before the fall of the Republic of Gilead to the culmination of the Parapsychic and Paranormal Species Acts proposed and brokered by the alternately vilified and worshipped Senator Adrien Ferrimen. Note: After the culmination of the Parapsychic Act, the Awakening was said to have finished and the proportion of psionics to normals in the human population stabilized, though fluctuations occur in seventy-year cycles to this day.

Ceremonial: 1. An accredited psion whose talent lies in working with traditional sorcery, accumulating Power and "spending" it in controlled bursts. 2. Ceremonial magick, otherwise known as sorcery instead of the more organic witchery. 3. (slang) Any Greater Work of magick.

Clormen-13: (Slang: Chill, ice, rock, smack, dust) Addictive alkaloid drug. Note: Chill is high-profit for the big pharmaceutical companies as well as the Mob, being instantly addictive. There is no cure for Chill addiction.

Deadhead: 1. Necromance. 2. Normal human without psionic abilities.

Demon: 1. Any sentient, alien intelligence, either corporeal or noncorporeal, that interacts with humans. 2. Denizen of Hell, of a type often mistaken for gods or Novo Christer evil spirits, actually a sentient nonhuman species with technology and psionic and magical ability much exceeding humanity's. 3. (slang) A particularly bad physiological addiction.

Evangelicals of Gilead: 1. Messianic Old Christer and Judic cult started by Kochba bar Gilead and led by him until the signing of the Gilead Charter, when power was seized by a cabal of military brass just prior to bar Gilead's assassination. 2. Members of said cult. 3. (academic) The followers of bar Gilead before the signing of the Gilead Charter. See Republic of Gilead.

Feeder: 1. A psion who has lost the ability to process ambient Power and depends on "jolts" of vital energy stolen from other human beings, psions, or normals. 2. (psion slang) A fair-weather friend.

Flight: A class or social rank of demons. Note: There are, strictly speaking, three classes of demons: the Low, Lesser, and Greater. Magi most often deal with the higher echelons of the Low Flight and the lower echelons of the Lesser Flight.

Greater Flight demons are almost impossible to control and very dangerous.Freetown: An autonomous enclave under a charter, neither Hegemony nor Putchkin but often allied to one or the other for economic reasons.

Hedaira: (demon term) 1. An endearment. 2. A human woman tied to a Fallen (A'nankhimel) demon. Note: There are several layers of meaning, depending on context and pronunciation. The meanings, from most common to least, are as follows: beloved, companion, vessel, starlight, sweet fruit, small precious trinket, an easily crushed bauble. The most uncommon and complex meaning can be roughly translated as "slave (thing of pleasure) who rules the master."

Hegemony: One of the two world superpowers, comprising North and South America, Australia and New Zealand, most of Western Europe, Japan, some of Central Asia, and scattered diplomatic enclaves in China. Note: After the Seventy Days War, the two superpowers settled into peace and are often said to be one world government with two divisions. Afrike is technically a Hegemony protectorate, but that seems mostly diplomatic convention more than anything else.

Ka: 1. (archaic) Soul or mirrorspirit, separate from the ba and the physical soul in Egyptianica. 2. Fate, especially tragic fate that cannot be avoided, destiny. 3. A link between two souls, where each feeds the other's destiny. 4. (technical) Terminus stage for Feeder pathology, an externalized hungry consciousness capable of draining vital energy from a normal human in seconds and a psion in less than two minutes.

Kobolding: (also: kobold) 1. Paranormal species characterized by a troll-like appearance, thick skin, and an affinity to elemental earth magick. 2. A member of the kobolding species.

Left-Hand: Sorcerous discipline utilizing Power derived from "sinister" means, as in bloodletting, animal or human sacrifice, or certain types of drug use (Left-Hander: a follower of a Left-Hand path).

Ludder: 1. Member of the conservative Ludder Party. 2. A person opposed to genetic manipulation or the use of psionic talent, or both. 3. (slang) Technophobe. 4. (slang) hypocrite.